"Celestine," he said, his face dark with fury, his eyes filled with disappointment, "I never thought you were this kind of person."
"For all these years of marriage, I treated you like a treasure. Whatever you wanted, I gave. I never lost my temper at you, never let you suffer even the smallest grievance."
"I learned massage and therapy just to care for you better. I kept you warm, clothed, tended to every need—terrified that you might be even a little unwell."
"And you? What did you do?"
"You went behind my back, sucking your best friend's blood, gambling, destroying your own reputation and dignity!"
"The body I worked so hard to nurse back to health—you ruined it with your filthy, shameful acts!"
"Celestine, you're not just degrading yourself—you're trampling on our marriage!"
The man who had always been so gentle, for the first time, was completely unhinged.
His voice was raw, each word like a blade, cutting me deeper than any wound on my body.
Seeing him like this, my chest tightened painfully.
Holding back tears, I forced myself up and tried to explain, "Blake, I—"
But before I could finish, his palm cracked harshly across my face.
"Shut up! Don't you dare say my name—you're not worthy!"